The Ball is in your Court
by Anonymous.Publishers
Summary: One shots, consisting of recent spoilers of season 6.
1. The Confrontation

**POSSIBLE SPOILERS** **INVOLVING SEASON 6**

Walking casually through the clinic, hands dug deep into his pockets, Wilson made his way towards Cuddy's office. After quietly entering, he just watched her--apparently getting ready to leave. Fussing around her desk, she didn't bother to address his entrance, which she was very aware of.  
"Going somewhere?" he asked softly. She just looked up at him, refusing to reply as she kept cleaning off her desk. Realizing she was in a small fit about the whole thing, he shifted towards the couch and sat, allowing her to continue at her desk. After about a minute of throwing papers here and there, she stopped abruptly standing over her desk and glanced over at Wilson.  
"If you want to go, then just go." he spoke to her calmly. She sighed and bowed her head down before walking over to join him on the couch.  
"I don't know what to do." she uttered softly. There was a sense of brokenness in her voice that triggered something within Wilson. His mind had set to 'Dr. Phil'.  
"This is House, okay? I find it great that you're at least attempting to try with him. And that's what you have to remember when you're confronting him. He'll deflect. No matter what you say he'll deflect. But you have to get it out of him. You have to drag it out by all means necessary. Don't back down."  
"What if--I _don't_ want to get it out of him." she hesitated to say. Wilson began to mouth out something, but he couldn't gather the words. So he just looked at her, expecting her to go on.  
"I still don't know if I even want a relationship with him."  
"Are you seriously saying this? He's refused to have an actual opinion about you since God knows when--now he's practically shouting out 'I love you Lisa Cuddy' and you're denying it?"  
"He's just going to deny me the same way."  
"Are you sure you know what all of _this_ is about? I'd happily inform you--"  
"Just because he says or feels one thing, doesn't mean he'll commit to another. You even said so yourself Wilson. This is House."  
"But--that's not what you're afraid of--" he broke off and just stared at her.  
"You should be scared," he started.  
"I thought that was what we were talking about--?" Cuddy asked awkwardly.  
"Not of the fact that it might just go wrong--but of the fact that it might just go right." he stated rather profoundly. He just stared as Cuddy sustained a confused and slightly offended face.  
"Why would I be afraid of that." she asked blankly.  
"You're afraid based on who he is, and who you are. Afraid that you might place yourself in a position where, you can't get out when it comes time for the building to fall. You're afraid that there's a chance that he will get out, but you won't, and that you'll be more hurt than he would be." he just stared at her carefully, waiting to say something. It took her a bit, but she swallowed and replied to him.  
"Why am I afraid of both.." she asked. It seemed as though she was just a little girl. Helpless and unsure of what to do.  
"Because--you're in control. You make the next step here. And that step determines if you'll fall or you'll make it another few feet along the road when you throw the ball back to him, and he has to make the choice."  
"So what do I say to him?" She just stared at Wilson. He gave half a smile, and rested a hand on her shoulder.  
"In the moment--you'll know exactly what to say. It won't be a conscious thought. It will be--deeper than that." As he tapped her shoulder, she gave a scoff as she stood up from the couch.  
"That helps." she uttered with sarcasm. Wilson just sighed as she slipped on her jacket and grabbed her purse from a drawer in her desk. Barely out the door, Wilson stopped her.  
"Cuddy!" he called out. Biting her lip, she held onto the door and turned around.  
"The ball is in your court." Giving a curt nod, she walked out, slamming the door slightly and prepared herself for a long drive to Mayfield.

---

"_..And when the silence of the night can hold me dear, the coldness creeps to nibble at my feet. These walls have not only closed in, but surround me as my bitter friends, but in them I cannot confide. And as the darkness swallows me whole, images of the past fill my mind--flashing before my eyes with the terror that wreaks within them. When the bitterness of the air whips my soul, I listen to my breath which somehow puts me at ease. And when the last image appears before my quiet slumber, my head aches, my stomach churns and my heart slows, only to be heard within my ears. This image greets me with fervor, appearing kind and tender, but it wisps away before I can address. It disappears, and cold sweat begins to gather, the pain surging through my veins...Why is this haunting me, what does it want, why won't it stop. What can I do to end this pain that has surfaced over and over again? She never leaves. She's always here..._" House hesitated to finish the last line, due to the penetrating shrieks from one of the patients running around aimlessly through he halls. Slightly frustrated, he clicked his pen shut, and tucked his notebook carefully within his pillowcase.  
He lazily walked out of his room to find the nurses injecting a sedative within the patient. Ignoring the scene, he decided to take a trip to the mess hall. His head had been aching all morning, so he tried to ease it with some lunch.  
Upon entering, he found the hall a little deserted. He didn't exactly make it to the actual time for lunch, so he was pretty much alone. He wasn't sad however--lunches were almost always hectic, and the lunch line would be faster to move through. After grabbing a sandwich and a bottled water, coupled with a bag of chips, he sat down in a booth by one of the windows. Losing himself for a moment, he was unaware of his surroundings. So unaware, that he didn't see Cuddy enter the hall and walk toward him. He only realized her presence when she approached the booth.  
"Can I sit?" she asked. He jerked, snapping out of his trance and just stared at her. Squinting at her, he gave a curt nod and she sat in the booth. Swallowing what was in his mouth, he opened his water as he addressed her.  
"What are you doing here?"  
"I think you know why."  
"Just hoping for a different answer." he said quickly. He kept his eyes focused either out the window, or on his food, even around the hall, just anywhere away from her direction.  
"You going to admit to anything?" she asked meekly.  
"If you're looking for answers I think you've dropped by the wrong asylum."  
"Deflect all you want. I'm not leaving."  
"So you're going to waste your whole day just to get an answer out of me."  
"Plural. I'm going to waste day_s_ if I have to, to get answer_s_."  
"Well, no questions, so I don't feel the need to provide any answers."  
"We both know it now, House. You might as well--"  
"Confess? I didn't know you had a career change. What should I refer to you as, Rabbi Cuddy?"  
"We both know it, and you know know you have feelings about it."  
"You know if you're really a rabbi now, I strongly suggest you keep your night job a secret. I don't think they would approve of a stripper toe be preaching to their people."  
"We going to dance all day?"  
"Unless you leave then yes."  
"Fine, good thing I brought my waltzing shoes."  
"The waltz is OVER-rated." he uttered with large eyes. Cuddy bit her lip in evident annoyance with him, but fought the temptation to leave. She had to break this down. This--wall of whatever was standing between them.  
"House. I've asked you this before--I want a straight answer from you. Do you want a relationship with me--?"  
"--No." he stated quickly. Averting his eyes, keeping them locked on the table, he finished off his sandwich and gulped half of his water.  
"Look at me and say that." she said firmly. He finally looked up at her--worst thing to do. Now he couldn't look away. He just swallowed.  
"Now. Say it." she said with irritation. Blinking twice with a bit lip, he forced something out of himself. He spoke boldly and with no hesitation. Practically--vomiting it out.  
"If you're waiting for me to say that I want a relationship with you, that I want you, that maybe I'm in love with you, I hope you enjoy disappointment. Because, you were right before when you said that we don't have a personal relationship, because we never could. Don't expect me to come to your door in the middle of the night. You know me, which is why you should know to stay away. You know the damage I can do. You know the damage I've done. So. If your expectations when you came here were that you could manage to get us together, then you are surely mistaken. My hallucinations about us were and are irrelevant to how I feel about you. So for next time--don't raise your expectations so high, because you will fall. And you will crash." it all just came out at once. In the coldest tone he could ever utter. Cuddy just bowed her head before looking up at him again in soft tears. She did not yell, she did not gain anger. She just smiled with tears streaming down her face.  
"My expectations--weren't to get us together. My expectations weren't even to get you admit to how you feel. I had no expectations. But I hoped. I hoped that--you would have even the slightest care to--ask me what I've been asking you for a long while. I was hoping, that you'd let me say my part in this and just--" she stopped. House face began to loosen as the tears fell down her cheek. He just repeated in his mind: _Just not now. Not now._ Pulling herself together, she finished off.  
"Sex is never just sex House. Even in dreams and hallucinations. Especially between certain people. Certain people, with relationships like us. Even the twisted ones." she reached out and rested her hand on top of his for a moment, before standing up to leave. As her footsteps echoed coupled with an opening and closing of a door, both of them were left disappointed--that _someone_ had to walk away, yet again.


	2. Guess who's Back?

**SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS** I cannot stress this enough. This story is completely filled with spoilers.  
I've decided to go on, due to several more spoilers revealed.  
But, bear in mind that I have returned to school also. Expect longer waiting periods for updates on all of my stories in the working. Quotes created by me. So, without further ado, Enjoy.  


* * *

Rationality, can only take you so far.  
Emotions, can drive you only so much farther.  
What matters more--I still don't know. But whichever I choose, somehow will still end up ruining _everything_.  
Let the breakdown begin.  
-Gregory House

"You let him hurt you. Again." Wilson was disappointed as he sat at his desk, listening to Cuddy--letting her vent yet again. It was about a half hour of explaining what happened before he said anything. She sighed before replying.  
"What am I supposed to do with him?"  
"Keep running."  
"Running where exactly?"  
"After him."  
"Since when have I been chasing him?"  
"It's always been that way."  
"Since when."  
"Since you fought him to get his job back here, and offered everything when Stacy left." he smirked a little, showing off his little grin, and waited for a response from Cuddy.  
"What if I don't--can't chase him anymore?" Wilson took a pause--even for merely a second before grinning at her--even spitting out a smirk before replying.  
"You'll always want to chase him--" he started. He looking up and down briefly with shut eyes, he finished.  
"somehow, I know that much."

* * *

  
House sat on the bench outside in the court with a bowed head, and arms rested on his thighs as his entire back arched forward. Eyes tight shut, he tried to figure out everything. Everything with Cuddy---  
And with Lydia.  
Like a little confused boy, he sat, waiting for some kind of mentor to come around. And one did, eventually. Not really a mentor however. More like--a psychoanalyst. Sort of.  
"You really had to do it, didn't you?" Wilson asked as he approached House. With a quick purse of the lips, Wilson took a seat next to him.  
"I don't like this." Wilson admitted.  
"What else was I supposed to do?"  
"_Talk to her._ Confess."  
"I didn't know what to say."  
"The truth."  
"Which has been compromised." House looked up towards Wilson with tensed eyes. A concerned look splashed across Wilson's face. A quick tilt of the head gestured House to go on. He looked away again.  
"I slept with a patients sister-in-law." he admitted bluntly.  
"You _what?_" he asked, almost appalled. House refused to continue, so Wilson carried on.  
"Are you--did you--**do** you, actually like her?" another silence from House, and Wilson's eyes widened.  
"You think you _love_ her?" after a moments pause, House replied.  
"No. But I think I cared enough for her departure to hurt. She's married. With a kid."  
"She's married. With a kid."  
"Yes, I think I just said that. Good thing I still don't cease to surprise you, huh?" he asked, clearly deflecting. Wilson just stood up, and began to pace around in front of him.  
"I thought this would just be a one time thing. But apparently, I was completely wrong. Completely stupid."  
"Oh stop. I'm not womanizing--"  
"You helped a woman cheat." House averted his eyes, rolling them as Wilson continued to pace.  
"She was the first person--besides you--don't give me that look. She was the first person--who for some reason I could talk to."  
"You replaced her with a stranger you barely knew?"  
"Who?"  
"Cuddy."  
"How did I replace her?"  
"You're trapped here. You've been for a long time. You will be--for the next two weeks or so. But for the past months, without a hook on Cuddy, you attach to _her_."  
"So you're saying that I actually, miss Cuddy?"  
"I don't see any other explanation. If anything, whoever this person was possibly reminded you of her? You became attached easily.."  
"No."  
"Yes. Yes, House."  
"No. Two separate people--"  
"She's doing the same thing." Wilson spat out. With a stare, and a stare alone directed straight at Wilson, he continued.  
"She's been dating someone--there's a chance you might remember. But, like she said when she came over the other day--she wasn't expecting you to jump to anything. Just a matter of words would've satisfied her."  
"Who." he seemed less concerned about their own situation, than who had just entered their already complicated relationship.  
"Huh. I'm sure you remember--PI Lucas?"  
"He's back? What did you two do, hire him to keep an eye on me or something?"  
"He's not hired. She called him. Or so I've heard." Looking away again, a new flock of problems just entered his mind. Regretting the days before--regretting turning away.  
"This is what happens when you enjoy the chase, House. When you enjoy it too much. You had her going for a while--but she's pretty fast." 


	3. The Dream

If you're at all wondering why I've been hesitant to update all my other stories, this seems a lot easier to go along with than everything else. Don't worry I have not stopped my other stories--just consider it a hiatus. Enjoys. And again: SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS.  


* * *

  
"I hope you feel relieved." Wilson struggled to say as he pulled House's duffle through the doorway.  
"Relieved? Moving in with you is a relief? If that's the word you wanna use, by all means." House replied as he followed behind him. Discharged from Mayfield today, House was now shifting to Wilson's apartment. Moving in, until he could get back on his feet.  
As Wilson carried his belongings into the guest room, House scoped out his new home. It still looked the same as it always had, just cleaner and Wilson-like. As it should be.  
But what was left, still itching at his mind was--  
"--House, check the messages will you?" Wilson called out from the bedroom. His thought interrupted, he sighed and limped into the kitchen towards the counter top to play back any messages.  
"**One new message: Today at five twenty-seven p.m.;** Wilson it's Cuddy. Um--let me know when you've got House. So we can--start making arrangements for him. **End of message.**" House leaned a little on the counter, closed his eyes and pressed a button on the machine. "**Message deleted.**"  
Wilson walked into the kitchen and folded his arms as he leaned along the archway. House payed no attention until he addressed him.  
"Angry?" he asked meekly. House looked up.  
"Disappointed."  
"She's calling for you."  
"We role-playing? I don't remember being Wilson." he said as he walked into the living room.  
"You heard the concern. You can't pretend it wasn't there."  
"I can pretend she had a boyfriend, I can pretend she has a kid. I can also pretend she has a life. I can pretend a lot of things, but most of those are actually true."  
"You know as much as I do that she would be the last person to back down on you."  
"Even if that is true, it doesn't mean it's right."  
"It's right for _her_."  
"Which has to change." House replied immediately. He continued.  
"A lot of things are going to change." and he stood up, limping towards his bedroom as Wilson stared in an awkward awe, uncertain of what really just happened.

* * *

_That night_

The field was silent. Looking through his helmet, he could see the entire stadium, cheering him on. With lacrosse stick tightly gripped in his hand, he walked slowly, and as soon as the whistle blew he rushed down the field without a thought, running towards the goal. About twenty yards away from the goal, someone called his name from afar.  
Turning around, one of the opposing teams' players came rushing into him and knocked him flying. With another blow of the whistle as he fell back, his helmet slid off. Fellow players and coach rushing to his side, he moved his head around in pain. Groaning, he attempted to open his eyes and turned his head. On the sidelines, he saw someone. She had a scared and worried face as she stared back at him. Slightly bugging out his eyes, the coach began to slap him.  
"House! House! Are you okay?" He looked back at all of them. And got up slowly. All of them sighing in relief, he retrieved his helmet, continuing to stare at her. As if she were a ghost. But she didn't give the same reply. All she did was mouth out something to him. He just put on his helmet, and picked up his stick once more.  
With a blow of the whistle, it all happened so fast, jolting by the ten yard line, his name called out once more, a tossing and catching of the ball, before a swing at the net. And a silent swoosh, and everyone went insane. Teammates went up to him and began butting helmets. Some jumped on him in tremendous excitement, some lifted him off the ground. He naturally smiled and laughed with all of them as they dumped a barrel of Gatorade on the coach and himself. Drenched, he ripped off his helmet and shook his hair. The long stubble along his jaw held a mix of the Gatorade and sweat, along with his faded brown hair. Despite all this, he still looked young. And then, a hand brushed against his arm and he turned around. His eyes had met his kryptonite. The woman he had seen before was now running towards him, and jumped up, clinging her arms around his neck and legs around his waist. This time he wasn't surprised, he was shocked, and he gave an immediate response by smiling with her. Resting her forehead on his to kiss him, her curly hair swept across his rosy cheeks. But, before this moment could last, thunder and lightning began to bicker above them, and rain began to fall. The skies were a murky gray while the crystal drops fell like bombs. Despite all this, the team still cried in victory, sliding across the field on their knees. But then the worst happened. A sudden shooting pain occurred in his leg, causing him to release the woman. He fell back even harder as he did before and grabbed his thigh. Sitting up, biting viciously into his lip, he looked around. As everyone rushed around him, he stared only at her.  
"What's wrong?" she asked him. But he stared in horror as a figure formed beside her.  
"It's interesting that I can haunt you in your dreams too." Amber stated happily. As she smiled, he allowed himself to lay his torso back on the grass.  
"You can dream House. There's no doubt about it. But they all won't come true." As Amber laughed above him, all the other faces, including the woman disappeared. Soon enough, he was alone and wet in the field. Eyes bugged out, he only whispered one thing.  
"Cuddy..."  


House shot up from his bed to discover himself drenched in sweat from head to toe. His sheets were also wet. Breathing hard, he tried to regain back sanity. Redirecting his mind he looked to the side, his hand had been set in a bowl of warm water. Hence, the wet bed. Smirking slightly, he got out of bed.  
Changing the sheets, and a new set of clothes, he returned to bed. Before shutting his eyes, he caught his watch: Three thirty a.m.,. With a quick sigh, he struggled to get back to sleep.

* * *

"Cooking?" House asked Wilson at the counter the following morning. Setting down mugs in front of House and him, he leaned on the counter waiting for the coffee.  
"It's a good skill you should learn. Take out isn't the most substantial food to be constantly kept in your stomach."  
"I've survived this far."  
"Right." The coffee quickly brewing behind them, Wilson threw occasional glances. Then checking the time on the watch, he stepped out to get the paper. As he did so, House went over and locked the door. Walking casually back into the kitchen, he poured himself some coffee. Then a twist of the handle and knocks followed.  
"House! Open the door I locked myself out."  
"I'm not here! And neither is Wilson! So leave a message!" House called out as he drank his coffee.  
"House, open the door!"  
"I'm sure you'll find a way to get in eventually! I trust you completely!"  
"HOUSE!"  
"Break in. I'm a cripple and you expect me to open the door for _you?_"  
"I'm _not_ breaking in."  
"It's a good skill you should learn. Not leaving around extra keys is the best strategy to keep yourself locked out. That, and leaving me in the house." Rapping on the door, House smirked, and walked into the living room, and flipped on the stereo, blasting the music.  
"House!"  
"And by the way! You're sheets are stained!" Smirking slightly, House kicked back on the couch. Enjoying this ; This being the one and only way to compensate for the previous night.


	4. A heart to Give, Another to Claim pt 1

Three Shot - **"A Heart to Give, Another to Claim"**

**Part One**

"I can't do this anymore," he said to her softly.

"In your eyes--I'll only be so much as second best. And if I can't have all of you--well. Then you're obviously not mine to have. I've accepted that, but will you?"

She slowly fell into tears as these words slipped from his mouth, and with a quick peck to the cheek accompanied by a fleeting exit she broke down completely.

_December 20th - These Days before Eve_

The hospital met it's silence for the following days leading up to Christmas. The clinic, the ER, even House's department had been slowed. So to preoccupy himself with all the free time, House ran around the hospital, festive in every possible way, even down to his cane. Passing children had mistaken him for a candy striper sometimes even a Santa Claus. He didn't bother to correct them, they came and gone so he just let it slide--for once.  
Wilson had sometime joined after dealing with all his depressing cancer patients--he needed the holiday high, strangely enough from House, to lift his spirits. So they pranced around as evidently Santa Claus and a Jewish elf.  
But today, House was stripped from his festiveness to just a Santa hat, and his cane. He sat in his lowly office, looking towards the floor when Wilson came strolling by in his suit and into the office.  
"No Christmas cheer this morning?" he asked walking up to the desk.  
"Hat and cane." his eyes still hadn't lifted from the floor.  
"Oh right..Right, right." There was a pause between them before he spoke again.  
"I don't...."  
"You don't what?"  
"I don't know what to do with her." he spoke in the most serious tone, in the most vulnerable state Wilson had seen him in, in a long while.  
"Why what--"  
"He's going to ask her."  
"What? Wh--a? Ho-w? How do you know?"  
"Asked me three things: if I could help him pick out a ring, help him pay, and if I could help him come up with an idea on how to ask her." Wilson just stood there, not knowing what to say, dumbfounded and motionless.  
"I scrape off enough money to pay at least two thirds if I wanted, but I paid one--" he tossed the red velvet box at Wilson and juggled it a little before attaining a grasp. He opened it and viewed the ring.  
"Why on earth--did he ask you?" House stood up and began to walk out.  
"Apparently, out of everyone, I know her most, at worst and best. Of course, I'm speaking verbatim."  
"Of course you are," Wilson started skeptically. "but it can't be just that. You wouldn't..Where we going?"  
"If you are staring at a fawn, and a ranger tries to protect it, do you waste your time trying to shoot down the ranger?"  
"Oh _how_ did I know that was coming."  
"Metaphor, or this?"  
"Metaphor, because you can never admit anything plainly. Plainly, for lack of better word."  
"I'm sorry a conversation with me requires you to think. Of course, so do several other things, so I'm not that sorry."  
"What are you going to do?" Wilson sighed.  
"I'm going to shoot the fawn." the doors of the elevator then opened and they walked into the lobby, going towards the clinic doors. Pushing through without a care in the world, people were shoved aside by House and then apologized to by Wilson before they reached Cuddy's set of doors. Her paperwork was literally a stack about a fair foot high. Of course House didn't care--it was House.  
Bursting in, words were the first thing to attack Cuddy, while House in his absent sane mind just sat back as these words flowed out. Wilson stood in what was supposed to be Cuddy's secretariats office to be kept safe from the due bloodbath.  
"If you marry him you're a wimp, if you don't you're a masochist. And possibly a sadist..."  
"Wh-what do you want House?"  
"What is that insane buttload of paperwork for? It's called the holidays."  
"It's called maybe a few dozen papers that are in irrelevance to you and the other ninety percent in relevance. Insurance, a few good lawsuits, which God forbid we manage to squeeze our way out of--"  
"Ah-pap-ap-ap. Stop changing the subject."  
"What are you talking about."  
"You've moved in with him."  
"And you're asking?"  
"If you're going to or wanting to marry him."  
"You left us alone for a while House, why all of the sudden is my relationship with Lucas the top of your agenda?" he just looked at her, pretending like he didn't hear a word, and just threw up simply _everything._.  
"If you marry him, you surrender yourself to him. He ties you down, you tie him down. It all symbolizes that you felt completely helpless and felt the girl needed a healthy and caring father figure which means you're a wimp. You don't marry him, you are alone; Like you have been, like you always seemed to be. You take upon that misery for yourself and for your daughter, not giving her a choice and tie you two down to misery. To pain. And we're back to the masochist."  
"So--either way it's a lose-lose situation. I think I'm going to take the risk."  
"You're not looking for happiness. Far from it."  
"Really," she sighed. "I thought that feeling was feeling out of place.."  
"You--"  
"I have protection, House. I have security with Lucas. He's everything, and exactly what I need. If you're pushing this because you think I need you? Then. Well." she looked back down and scribbled on each paper and she flipped over and back into her 'finished' stack. House came closer to the desk, a distance where Wilson--who had been grimacing several different faces in between statements--could still hear him, but close enough to get Cuddy's temperature to rise.  
"You need, perfection. You can have what you need. Maybe that will provide. Maybe that will satisfy. Maybe he is good enough. But he knows. He knows his place. He knows right where he stands. Your, safety net. Second rate, at best. At least in your eyes--" she looked up at him in the coldest glare she could convey her anger through. His expression loosened.  
"He's exactly, what you need. Right down to every inch. I'm not saying you don't want Lucas. You could. With all the love you could muster; but who's to say it's not forced, or guilt; How I see it? It's not that you don't want him, why not? He's what you need. But it'll never be full. You don't have a choice, but you'll be tied down. You'll never want for him in entirety, because there will be a single string attached. That cannot be cut," slightly red and wet faced she whispered angrily under her breath.  
"Get. Out." without hesitation, he turned away and flew out the doors dragging Wilson along.  
"She didn't stop you.." Wilson spoke softly beginning a constant back and forth.  
"She never had the intention."  
"She was civil. It was admirable."  
"Civil? She only shut up because she knew I was right."  
"Which how many times has she done? That makes her civil."  
"Fine fine."  
"You hurt her back there."  
"Which wouldn't be the first. I know that and she knows that."  
"It's no excuse."  
"I know."  
"She feels guilty now."  
"I know," they stepped into the elevator heading back to Wilson's.  
"that was the point." House finished.  
"You're a manipulative bastard you know that?"  
"You got that?"  
"Oh, your plan? No I was just stating the facts."  
"Do you know the plan?"  
"Figure it out." they stepped out and they began to walk towards Wilson's office.  
"I shot a leg," House began. "the fawn will begin to weaken, to wobble. Even fall. If she's strong, she'll get back up, like I know she will. Then I'll shoot another leg. She'll be vulnerable. When she goes and tells on me to the ranger--"  
"Like I said, manipulative bastard." and they both walked into his office to slack off until lunch.

_December 22 - Torn by you, Torn by Two  
Ten O'clock A.M._

"Where did you find these?" Cuddy asked Nurse Brenda. She pointed out and gestured to the front of the clinic. Cuddy gave a curt nod and thank you as he rested her eyes on the three presents addressed to her. All separate sizes, different wrapping papers--only the square shape remained the same.  
The first she opened was the tallest of them all. First untying the bows, then ripping apart the papers she opened the box and lifted out a beautiful miniature Christmas tree. Decorated like no other, as it was personalized. There was a mini "Michigan" ornament, reflected her graduates at the university, her name etched in the ribbons wrapped around the tree, and the star with a small picture of Rachel. She smiled, set it down and flipped a button to light up the tree.  
Moving onto her next present, she removed the packaging fairly easy and faster this time around. The excitement had reached her hands, like children on Christmas morning. But what excited her most was the thought that _Lucas_ had done all of this.  
The next present was a pair of crystal white doves, linking up together. They were beautiful glimmering in the light. She smiled and set it down next to her tree and opened the last gift.  
The smallest gift, held a silver necklace, a glimmering chain with three red roses dangling one after the other. She put it on, then touched it lightly and smiled. But looking back towards the box, was a note. It read:

_Cuddy  
- There will be nine more gifts to come your way. Four tomorrow, four the next and finally one come Christmas. I hope you enjoyed these three presents.  
your regret,  
Anonymous._

This note beheld several strange things. All contradicting the 'fact' that Lucas had sent these things. The possibility even. Lucas would not have to hide this..  
And "your regret," didn't sound like a guessing game hint he would give. Sliding everything off her desk into the garbage, she set the first two gifts accordingly to her desk. She tried going back to work but her suspicions were already on the rise. She would never know the time but she eagerly waited for tomorrow where four more gifts would arrive.  
The following gifts consisted of what seemed to be, inspired gifts from "The Twelve Days of Christmas" carol. Gift four was an old edition of The Rolling Stones, four members, four "calling birds". Gift five was a "gold" watch consisting of "rings" for the chain or band of the watch. The sixth gift was a beautiful geese painting, very beautifully done.  
The next four included a "swan" bracelet, with "seven" charms around, a snow globe, containing a musical number of "nine ladies" and gents "dancing", and two music boxes. One, from a Michael Flatley collection, where riveting music of river dancing would occur, at least "ten" different melodies would sound off, and the other a folk music box, consisting of a "maid" twirling round, this box including only "eight" different melodies.  
Cuddy still hadn't made a decision on who had given these to her, but she would find out eventually with just one gift left. Hoping that the giver would come forward this last time.


	5. A heart to Give, Another to Claim pt 2

This note beheld several strange things. All contradicting the 'fact' that Lucas had sent these things. The possibility even. Lucas would not have to hide this..  
Cuddy still hadn't made a decision on who had given these to her, but she would find out eventually with just one gift left. Hoping that the giver would come forward this last time.

╬╬╬

**Part Two**

_The Last Gift_

Come Christmas eve, Cuddy was once again stuck in the office. So, she called up Lucas and told him she'd be late and that he would need to tuck in Rachel. Depressed that she wouldn't get to put her child to sleep like this Christmas night, she got up from her desk and traveled up to a place she hadn't been in a while. Since their last fight to be exact.  
Going up and out the elevator, she came to the fourth floor, only to find it empty. To her surprise, a single light had been seen from a distance, which brightened as she walked towards the office. She saw him reading diligently, so deeply attracted by the book. She tried to limit the noise to refrain from disturbing him as she stepped straight into his office and sat down on the chair before him.  
"Can I use my balls one more time before you rip them off?" He started without taking his eyes off the book. She only smirked.  
"If you're expecting an apology, I don't know what to say, but I do have something to give." he turned his chair toward the window grabbing for a small boxed gift. He carefully handed it to her and said, "don't open it until tonight at twelve." she set the gift down and just looked away. House didn't bother to address it, so he tried to keep the conversation going.  
"Have I been waiting here for nothing or are you somehow...UN-angered?"  
"You've been waiting?"  
"You think my reading ability only functions here?" she sighed and got up to leave. She was dead at the doors when he stopped her.  
"Don't go." She slowly turned around, huffed and dropped her folded arms.  
"You shoot me over and over and over again and expect me to take it. Even if I'm already on the floor, you still continue to kick me. A person can only take so much of your crap, House. And you realize that, which is why you try to compensate. You make me fall for you all over again and it's been a constant battle between, even before Lucas. Now that he's here, you try to drive him away, the one thing that's keeping me emotionally sane. I thought you were going to leave us alone. Wilson thinks you can and are changing by so much, but you still seem like the same son of a bitch I've always known."  
"You tried. Tried and tried. So, hard, before. To just get my attention. You claimed you felt the same way I feel now, where is it? It hasn't left. It doesn't die. It's there, sitting in your stomach. You still have feelings for me. Don't you. Otherwise you wouldn't try so hard to convince me otherwise that you're happy. You feel insecure, you feel others may see it too, even Douglas, so you lash out in hate even at the same juvenile things I've been doing for years. _Do you_ love him?"  
"Yes, House. I was in love with you. Yes, I tried. But I grew tired. I'm done trying to gratify you, even if it seems like I haven't been able to help myself come to a stop--like all the times before--But at least now, you're realizing how much you're missing me." her hands pointed every which way when she spoke, before House turned his head, moved his hand swiftly to turn off the light, and began to walk out. Passing her, he only spoke one thing.  
"Notice--that none of those words were, 'Yes House, I do love him.'" And he left for the hallway where Cuddy went after him. She let him walk as she stood at the front of his office.  
"There you go again. Running away like you always do and always have." He stopped as she walked toward him and continued.  
"You've had your chances, House. Recent standings say five years, not including the other fifteen or more and then some. You've had chance after chance, but you never did anything. If anyone's at fault here it's your own." Her voice faded as she walked up behind him.  
"You should stop being so scared," she spoke softly and earnestly. He turned away again and intentionally collided into her sending her steps back.  
"Who said I was scared," he asked in a low tone.  
"You are. That's why we're standing like this--_every day_."  
"My fears are in no relevance to my obligations here tonight." she walked into him, dominant and prominent with only one thing to say.  
"I dare you, to look me in the eye, right here and now telling me you don't love me." he swallowed--slightly--as he quickly came back with a counteract.  
"I dare you to get as close to my face as possible without feeling the need to kiss me." they just stared at each other in darkness as the moonlight slowly made its way around the hall.  
"Let's see how important those obligations are...Do you love me House?" he counteracted by inching his face towards hers. She could feel his breathing on her skin; from her lips, chin, and down her neck. She closed her eyes avoiding his.  
"'This bended and broken body has bended and broken enough--its wounds must heal and mend--'"  
"'to regain the blood shed firsthand, and bring back the souls pieces lost--what bring life to our living.'" House finished. Suddenly House met her pair of lips for a beautiful fraction of a second before she pulled back in instant shame. She bowed her head and whispered to him.  
"I...hate...waking up in the middle of the night, just to curse your name."  
"Not even a second in paradise--" he broke off and started walking back straight to his office.  
"Earnest or angered, you'll still run away won't you?" She soon followed after him rather quickly. As he walked in with her three feet behind him, he took the small box and tossed it over his shoulder at Cuddy.  
"Rachel--she would've walked it to you as soon as you woke up." he spoke smoothly. Cuddy caught it barely and just held it in her hand as House took a seat. He kicked his feet up onto the desk, propping his head onto his hand held up by the armrest.  
She opened the gift, and saw the velvet box before her.  
"What the hell is this?"  
"Open it." as she did so, House closed his eyes as if hiding the pain.  
"Why are you giving me this?"  
"It's--"  
"No--don't even start with excuses. What gives you the right to ask me to marry you--"  
"I'm not," he started. He got up from his chair and walked up to her. So close, one slight movement--he would push his lips into hers.  
"I am asking you to marry Lucas."  
"What? No,"  
"Of course. React. It's not like this answer should be thought out thoroughly."  
"I said no."  
"I know. But I was hoping you'd say yes, so then I could sway you to say no."  
"We've only--"  
"Yeah. I get your reasoning. I'm gonna go."  
"Where?"  
"The nearest bar."  
"Why did _you_ ask me?"  
"Because...It's like asking you, without actually asking you. Satisfaction of the mind. Aaanyway. I'll be going--"  
"--No--" He had begun to walk forward but she pushed him back to stop.  
"Yes? You're shortening my potential 'wasted Christmas' hours."  
"I'm not ready for this. Does he think he needs to?"  
"If I say yes to all your questions can I go?"  
"If you go, I'll follow you."  
"Fine, Wilson'll deal with you."

---

"WILSON! MOMMY'S HOME, GO HIDE THE LIQUOR!" he proclaimed as they both made it through the door. Wilson walked out of the kitchen wiping his hands on a hand towel with a confused look.  
"She followed me."  
"That's a first."  
"He proposed." they all had spoken after the other, from House to Wilson to Cuddy. After it was mostly a Wilson-Cuddy conversation--just like House wanted.  
"This one did, or Lucas because you followed this one home--?"  
"He proposed _for_ Lucas."  
"You--" Wilson was about to address House.  
"--eating!" he said after.  
"Is he jerking around?" Cuddy asked as they sat on the couch.  
"That's the sad part. He isn't."  
"How would you know."  
"I was there when Lucas talked to him, but he wasn't supposed to actually ask you." House then jumped in with a random sandwich in his mouth,  
"He asked, to come up with a way to ask you, and that's what I did."  
"You said something about Rachel. So. This was your way of pissing me off? By ruining my marriage proposal?" her voice raised. He replied,  
"You never said yes."  
"I'm aware. But you still ruined it."  
"What's the value if you decline?"  
"I declined you."  
"'He who rejects proposal, rejects House, and he who rejects House, rejects the one who sent House.' Wait...that's not right." Wilson scoffed,  
"Now that's just bad. Manipulating quotes from the bible?"  
"You caught that?"  
"You two have a happily wasted Christmas." Cuddy said walking out the door. They hadn't noticed her prepping to leave again and only caught her face halfway out the door.  
"Ah. That went well." Wilson broke the silence.  
"If there was a better choice you know I took it."

---

"Why am I not surprised," Lucas spoke with a smirk. They were both sitting down on Cuddy's couch when she told Lucas about House. He was sprawled back while she sat on her feet, head propped up on her hand.  
"I'm sorry."  
"You don't have to be."  
"I--enabled him. He just..gave it to me at first and told me to open it later tonight..but I enabled him to ask me."  
"It's fine."  
"How can you be so okay with someone else asking me to marry you?" her voice slightly raised.  
"Because it didn't mean anything. Other than I want to marry you."  
"Then why did I feel the need to say no?"  
"He asked you. It wasn't me. See, let's try this again," he slipped off onto the floor and onto his knee and he held onto her hand.  
"although I don't know what you've done with the ring..." she laughed as she set her feet onto the ground and inched closer towards the edge of the couch.  
"Lisa..."  
House turned off his bike and kinda just sat there for a moment. He watched through the window and ripped off his helmet. The words Lucas spoke were obviously inaudible, but he could read them. They ended with Cuddy falling on top of him in a tight hug.  
"'Not even a second to spare in paradise--because the treasures did not belong to him, an old loss to be won elsewhere.'" finishing the quote, he pulled off into the night regretting coming, with a tight grasp of the ring in his pants pocket.

╬╬╬


	6. A heart to Give, Another to Claim pt 3

**Part 3 (final)**

_December 31st - A uniting that could only evolve into a separation_

"I can't do this anymore." Lucas started out softly. He walked out and into the living room with an unfamiliar book in his hand. He grasped it tightly as he walked in.  
"This being," Cuddy asked as she set Rachel on the couch and off her lap.  
"Us," he started, and he suddenly tossed the book onto the table. Cuddy jerked in surprise as she gawked at him.  
"Are--are you saying we--where the hell did you get this?"  
"I was searching around for old pictures of you. Was going to make an album--you know, get you one gift from me for the holidays and in the act of looking, I found _this_ in your blue shoe box." She closed her eyes, due to the feeling that he had looked through and stumbled upon a certain page. From almost twenty years ago.  
"Open to your last entry--"  
"Lucas--"  
"and read it aloud."  
"I--we were young. It was years ago."  
"Please." he pleaded, looking her straight in the eye. She closed hers and swallowed as she flipped to the end of the journal. She was about to cry; you could hear the uneasiness in her voice, a painful thing to hide.  
"'He's gone. Just like I thought he would be. It's just. Just a little disappointing. I...thought he was different, and maybe he was. But I wouldn't get to see the rest. He graduated last night and that itself was the only strings keeping him tied and I'm not sure if this _relationship_ is enough to get him to stay close.  
I'm still not sure if last night meant something to me--I pose the question in his direction also, But--'..Luke."  
"Read the last lines.."  
"I--"  
"Cuddy." It was the first time he had called her that in the longest time.  
"'But I know something happened there and it's not something to let go of lightly. Love is possibly incorporated here, if so in the worst way possible, and I'm hoping someone will hear me when I ask for this to be a requited kind of love.'" she teared as she viewed her words and promises of years ago, reliving what she had felt, most importantly, towards House.  
"So, what are you saying? What are you trying to..explain with all this?"  
"I'm tired babe."  
"Of what?" she asked in shock.  
"Being second best."  
"How and when have you ever been treated as second best?" she asked with concern. The tension was so great, it seemed they were far apart within the room, when in reality, Cuddy was merely on the couch and Lucas standing in the archway; as if he couldn't be around her.  
"Luke. You know I love you."  
"Except it's not enough. I didn't chase you. I never had to. You just...came to me."  
"And what's wrong with that?"  
"Someone else...still is, and you admire him and love him for that." Cuddy began to let the tears fall a little harder. Her emotions were on the rise. Right now, she wasn't sure if it was due to hormones that came out of no where, or the words slipping out of his mouth...she had a feeling, however.  
"He...isn't you."  
"That's the point. He's out there...trying to fight back, trying to push forward to get to you. But everything is in his way. What work have I done to get you? Things aren't and should never be this easy. I'm not saying he deserves you--which he is fully aware of--but he loses his breath trying. He's running to keep up with you."  
"You get all of this from reading one entry from a diary of two decades ago?"  
"It's history. History, reminds us of the past and what was there. You cannot and should never erase it. It's essential to the outcome of the future."  
"History also can be a warning. To remind us of our mistakes, our errors in our thinking and our logic. Poor decisions and choices that we made, allowing us to be aware of them and to not let them occur again." she paused to catch her breath.  
"Listen to me. I--I thought before that I needed him. I don't."  
"He may not be the _man_ that you need. For right now, even ever. But you do need him. More importantly he needs you. Which is why he's not stopping or bothering to catch that breath because he's afraid if he does, he'll lose you."  
"Why are you comparing yourself to him?"  
"You wrote it, that's how you felt!"  
"Felt. Not feel. Past tense."  
"Feelings cannot be shut off that easily. Yes, you never say things like how you talked in your journal but it doesn't mean they're not there. I can see that there are still certain things you both have attached. And they say that you love him. You two have that history we talked about. Who am I to stand in the way of that?" he paced around, scratching his chin waiting between the painful pauses.  
"I. I don't want him."  
"Stop lying to yourself, Lise. The truth isn't going to go away if you ask it to. You can't hide it and you can't avoid it. He's trying to get to you."  
"I know! I know. I've been in the same situation before."  
"See?"  
"But that's the point, Luke, I don't want to be!" she was losing herself. A sense of vulnerability began to show. She realized this, so she sucked everything in, stifling sobs and crying dry tears.  
"I don't want you to lie to me. Stop protecting me, I don't need it. I just--I'm trying to cut out some honesty here." she sighed, and mustered up the courage and sanity within her to say her recent feelings.  
"There's...There's always been, you know. Something there. I'm not going to look you in the eye and lie to you that I never loved him, and that I possibly still don't. I'm sure you can see that from what you read. He's changing. Honestly it hurts to see how hard he's working for this. But--if I gave into him...things would remain as a one way street somehow....I don't. I don't need that."  
"He's been, more noble than you know."  
"I don't want to put myself in the same damn situation I've been in for the past years of my life. I'm tired, Luke. I, Love, you, and _you_, asked me to marry you, not House!"  
"I still do! God you have no idea how much I still do! You even said so yourself no."  
"Because it was House!"  
"But if I really love you, I know to be smart and give you up. I'd rather you leave me now, than be half mine when later strolled around. I'm sorry, I'm selfish, I can admit that; if I'm going to have you I want all of you. For myself."  
"Lucas!" she hissed.  
"I don't know who makes you happier. Frankly that doesn't matter. Love isn't happiness trapped up in a bottle like we all would like to think. It can consist of it, but the foundation...A friendship? Trust? Not only with each other, but with the others' life? Someone who will be protecting you with or without an umbrella when the rain comes. Second best doesn't do that, and that's the only thing I can trust myself as, because I see it in your eyes that when you look at me--I don't know. However, there are some people just...for each other and you know it's right because you feel it. It doesn't have to be destiny, it's just how you are around each other. Nothing else ever seems to matter." she had heard something like that before...but this time it wasn't someone looking on the outside.  
"So, if there's a heart before mine. Well, you're obviously not mine to have. I can accept that, will you?" Cuddy was slowly breaking down. She shook her head no and he waited, seeing if another answer could spill from her mouth. Disappointed, he breathed again.  
"Then I have to go." he said with a swallow.  
Her breath slowed as these words slipped from his mouth, and with a quick peck to the cheek to both herself and Rachel, accompanied by a fleeting exit that left the house empty, he was gone; she broke down completely.

╬╬╬

_New Years Eve - Hating you has been Wine, sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter; Loving you has been Heroin: addictive, painful and threatening_

House and Wilson were laughing hysterically as they filled each others glasses up to the rim in champagne. It was exactly half an hour before twelve while they were already more drunk than they had planned to be, seeing the half empty bottles of gin, scotch and whiskey along the table. The champagne, would merely finish things off. Suddenly, a loud knock sounded on the door scaring the both of them.  
"Dear God. Alright if we somehow ordered _another_ pizza, just slam the door on him." Wilson slurred. House staggered as he walked towards the door to unveil an upset Cuddy with Rachel asleep in her arms. Even wasted he could distinguish this particular face.  
"Really ba-a-a-a-d-d-d-d timing you have."  
"Cuddy," Wilson began from the couch. "is this a deja vu? didn't we do this already?" She rolled her eyes.  
"Yes. We're doing it over because it works better when you're both drunk." she hissed as she pushed her way in and surveyed the damage done.  
"Sober up. Make coffee, douse yourself with cold water I don't care. I'm going to lash out at you while coherent."  
"With baby?" he asked slowly. She just stared.  
"The room," he spoke as he turned and walked into the kitchen. Cuddy stepped carefully down the hallway, and creaked open the door to reveal House's bed. She turned on the side lamp and set Rachel under the covers, surrounding her sides with pillows to prevent her from falling. After she was sure she was deep asleep, she closed the door to an inch, and walked back out.  
"How did he wrong you now?" Wilson struggled as he sat up on the couch. House fixed his eyes on her as he waited for the coffee with a cold, wet face.  
"He gave Lucas my college journal." House turned around from the kitchen.  
"What?"  
"You know exactly what I'm talking about--"  
"Light blue and black with manila pages. What about it." he responded surprisingly stern.  
"You put it in my blue box and Lucas found it."  
"I haven't seen that thing since graduation."  
"You know I left it to you purposely. I wanted you to read it--"  
"I never did. It was yours, your personal thoughts, quotes, poems, dreams, and whatever else was in there. Diaries are only interesting if you don't know the people. If you know them, they're just redundant."  
"You indirectly gave it to him to mess with his head!"  
"No he didn't." Wilson spoke meekly. They both turned to him.  
"I think--I think I may have slipped that back to you?" he spoke with doubt.  
"Did _you_ read it?" she asked.  
"Again, I think, seeing as I'm not totally in a state of mind, yes?"  
"and you gave it back. then Lucas found it. Oh God."  
"That's good enough," House muttered to himself as he took out the coffee pot. He just poured the coffee straight out, and gulped it. It appeared to have fried his tongue but he didn't care, he was still so wasted.  
"So, you're here to lash out at who now?" he asked almost in a cocky tone. She threw a death glare as she removed her shoes and coat before walking over towards Wilson on the couch. House carefully joined on the recliner adjacent to them.  
"Stop pretending to be angry." House spoke without staring at her.  
"I'm pretending?"  
"You're glad you two are over. You miss _this_."  
"I...right. Because I'm all a-filled with joy right now after an hour prior to coming here, I cried with tears of joy. Of course. There's no other possible explanation."  
"You allowed it to happen."  
"Wilson did!"  
"First, if you didn't want the diary it's called gar-bage. Second, you could've gone after him. You could've fought with him more to prove his assumptions faulty, rather than coming over here to just get angry at me, and now Wilson. You want and need reasons to be around me. However, you actually got hurt this time. I apologize, for that."  
"And to think I felt guilty." she spoke staring at the TV.  
"Why would you, either way it was mine or that one's fault--"  
"I meant--towards you." Wilson got up off the couch and started walking towards the hallway.  
"Too awkward?" House called out.  
"Shower to sober up! You'd think the awkwardness would bother me, but since I'm, now, well..." his voice faded as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door, turning on the light and exhaust fan. Besides the noises of the bathroom and the television, there was a strong silence between them. After five long and painful minutes, House broke the silence.  
"If he was prepared to let someone else stand in the way of you two, he didn't really love you."  
"He sacrificed me, for apparently _us_, because he loved me that much."  
"There was no great sacrifice. He was just scared. He knew that he could never completely have you, I admire him for being aware of it, however, knowing that scared him into thinking he has a fair chance of losing you. He broke it out of fear, not out of love or a great sacrifice."  
"He knew he had a good chance of losing me, because he knew I could be happy somewhere else. He wouldn't be happy if he knew I wasn't completely happy with him."  
"Of course he'd like to tell himself that."  
"You mean you'd like to tell yourself that? Is this situation more similar or different to five years ago with you?"  
"She was married. That _was_ sacrifice."  
"Both regardless, are the same. You both made sacrifices."  
"I made A sacrifice. Singular--"  
"--So this is double standards?" she replied fast. He began to regret ever starting the conversation up again, but he also stopped himself from arguing with her. Suddenly, Rachel started to make a loud fuss within his bedroom. They both stood up with immediate alarm and began to walk toward the room. She was just waking up again.  
Both of them went on opposing sides and sat on the edges of the bed. Cuddy consoled Rachel began to pet her head, brushing her brown hair back. House then began to hum a nice melody. He had closed his eyes as he lost himself in the tune, and she just stared at him. As soon as he opened his eyes, he stopped, seeing as she was still watching him; he squinted his eyes and spoke low.  
"You don't care if it is." he spoke slowly.  
"I don't care if what is."  
"You don't care if it's double standards--"  
"--because they aren't, right? Is that where you're going?"  
"You're here aren't you? You're arguing with me. You're fighting your heart out to prove me wrong so you can resist trying to kiss me right now."  
"If I really wanted to I would've done so already," she spoke before she turned off the light, and began to walk out of the room. House hesitated a little before following. Closing the door ever so slightly, he took slow steps out the door. By the time he was in the hall she had practically ran to the couch.  
"I'm not going to be, sorry, for his loss--" he started, walking toward her. "_If_ that's what you're waiting for." He crept up and just stood behind the sofa before going on his knees and resting his arms on its backing; He just looked at her sideways.  
"I'm not, I mean..I can't resent you. You've done nothing wrong." she didn't look at him, but he knew the level of truth in her word.  
"Even so..you're not absolving me from..everything."  
"You want mercy from me," she asked turning to face him. "some form of absolution, is that what you're asking for?"  
"No." he said, after a moments pause.  
"Civility?"  
"Our kind, sure."  
"_Our kind_," she laughed. "why not."  
"11:51," he spoke, changing the conversation.  
"you sure you still want to spend this with me and nearly-pantless-man? Back out now."  
"He'll be sober enough to know not to take them off once he's out."  
"Right," he replied curtly as he stood up, making his way over onto the actual couch. As soon as he sat down, she bounced up and off, walking away.  
House shut off the tv, in exchange for his stereo. Setting it on a station that was doing a countdown, he followed her in the kitchen.  
_Radio - "Alright everyone, we still got a couple minutes before the countdown so we're gonna play the last song in 2009 for those out there alone this new years eve.."_

Picture perfect memories, scattered all around the floor, Reaching for the phone cause I can't fight it anymore; and I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time

"If you're going to leave, at least wait for a few more hours."  
"And why would I do that."  
"It's new years. Booze, plus men equals reckless driving. I'd think even you could figure that out." She walked back out of the kitchen and poured herself some liquor by the table. She thought to herself, she needed him now. But why was she so eager to push him away?  
"The earlier to leave the better. I'm wasting good time even arguing." After swallowing the entire glass, she began to gather her belongings and as she did, he walked over and grabbed her by the arm.  
"Stop."

_Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door--Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before_

Blue to gray they stood. Motionless, for a heartbeat, that seemed to last forever.

_And I wonder if I ever cross your mind, for me it happens all the time_

"I don't need you," she lied. "I'll be fine." she attempted to retract. Squinting his eyes, he let go, as she quickly slipped on her shoes and went for Rachel. After a minute or so, she came out and slowly walked toward the door.  
"Drive safe." he spoke practically empty. Nodding, she carefully opened the door and left. Walking out and down the hall, she thought to herself..."Come after me, you idiot"

_It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now, said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now, and I don't know how I can do without--I just need you now._

As the clock in ticked sixty seconds before midnight, thirty seconds after she left, he jumped up and darted out the door. Determined to follow her.  
However, by the time he made it out she was still, motionless within the car. Her hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel and her head rested at the top, she seemed to sob silently where no one could hear. Suddenly, the fireworks sounded, and exploded with color in the air--both alarmed they looked up before latching eyes like before, and they just stared as the fireworks were like comets, roaring across and lighting the sky.  
_Yes--I'd rather hurt than feel _nothing_, at all_


End file.
